They apply the
      herbal poultices
to my broken frame
surrounding me with light
to melt the pain
They put their cooling
   healers' hands
around my heart
wrap it in a
         temporary tourniquet
so its beats
don't fall apart
and despite this endless
sadness
    I'm alive
due to my breathing
        gasping madness
to survive
My will is shining
glowing
bursting through
   despite the burning
craving soulful
missing
   of only you
The fire in my ribcage...
it will burn
but my healers-
they are tenderly
taking turns
administrating care
and tending to
     my needs
using ancient
knowledge of how
to cure
and how to bleed
and while I lie here
gashes open, old wounds exposed
My healers feel my pain
and simply know
"It's okay, sweet woman warrior
it takes time for deep cuts
to close" they whisper
knowing I can hear
subconsciously this prose
Inside their medicine bag
with its mysterious potions
they make bandages
from silk
rub in soothing lotions
As hurt gets released
into the potent air
in my semi-conscious
state
I am thankfully aware
that this is a chance
to just allow myself
to feel
Let sadness
go through me
in rivulets
in streams
Cleanse my aching
loving heart
until it
gleams